


Encyclopaedia of Sand

by 2nd2ndalto



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-04
Updated: 2010-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2nd2ndalto/pseuds/2nd2ndalto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a fluffy, smutty day at the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encyclopaedia of Sand

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this photo prompt](http://i825.photobucket.com/albums/zz178/takethewords/PROMPTS/the_sands_of_time_by_MinniexMarsmal.jpg) at Then There's Us. Thanks to momdaegmorgan for the beta, and thanks to Wikipedia for the Doctor's very impressive knowledge on the topic of sand.
> 
> * * *

Rose stepped out of the TARDIS and onto an empty expanse of sunny shoreline, studying their surroundings with a practiced eye. Nothing but sand, sun, and water. No aliens, nothing obviously dangerous. Not that that was any kind of guarantee. She'd thrown her trainers into her backpack at the last minute, just in case.

"Oh, sand, Rose! Brilliant!" the Doctor enthused, emerging from his ship behind her.

Rose smiled and shook her head at him, passing him her backpack so she could slip her sandals off. "Well, you did say we were coming to a beach," she pointed out.

"I did!" he agreed. "And just look at me! All ready for a beach day!" He held out his arms in demonstration, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Rose grinned. He was indeed dressed for the beach. Red Chucks, as per usual, but other than that... well, he was practically naked compared to his usual standard of layers upon layers. In a t-shirt and baggy swim trunks, he gave an overwhelming impression of skinny white arms and legs.

He handed Rose's bag back to her as they set off down the beach in search of a good spot. "No running today," she reminded him firmly, shaking an admonitory finger.

"No running," he agreed readily.

"We're going to sit still," Rose continued.

His face fell a little and he opened his mouth to protest.

"We might even have a nap," Rose added before he could interrupt, raising her eyebrows at him.

He sighed, but then brightened again. "But, sand, Rose!"

"Yes, you mentioned that," she laughed. "How about here?" She gestured to a wide expanse of orange shore, not too far from the sparkling water.

"Perfect." The Doctor shucked his t-shirt and trainers. Grateful for her mirrored sunglasses, Rose couldn't help taking a good look; this was the most she'd ever seen of him.

He was certainly skinny, but... in a lean, strong kind of a way. He was wiry, his legs muscled like a marathon runner's. She had a sudden desire to trace the lines of those calves with her fingers. Maybe taste him, just behind his knee.

And those gorgeously toned arms... They'd been wrapped around her so many times in celebratory hugs, and she felt a pang of regret that it had always been through layers of clothing. She nearly considered manufacturing an excuse for an immediate hug (not that the Doctor ever needed much provocation) but abandoned the thought just as quickly, not sure how he would react when the hug culminated in her throwing him down onto the sand and snogging him senseless.

The Doctor glanced at her, raising his eyebrows questioningly, and Rose quickly turned her back on him in an attempt to hide her goofy grin. Trying to act as if she hadn't just been further undressing him with her eyes, she opened her backpack and casually spread out their towels.

The Doctor crouched down to inspect the sand. "Did you know, Rose, that the most common constituent of sand is silica? Plain old silica! The most abundant mineral on earth!" He scooped up a handful of sand and let it fall in a thin stream back to the ground.

"Mmm," Rose commented, stripping off her top and shorts to reveal her favourite red bikini. She reached into her backpack for the sunscreen. The Doctor was usually quite happy to spout his encyclopaedic knowledge with very little participation from her. It was a routine that worked well for both of them.

He scooped up another handful of sand and scrutinized it closely, poking out his tongue to taste it. "This particular sand," he continued, "Mmm..." He paused to give it a thoughtful taste, crunching delicately. Rose made a face. "Iron oxyhydroxide," he proclaimed. "That's what gives it the orange colour. And quite a high arsenic content."

Rose froze with her hand full of a glob of sunscreen, her eyes widening in alarm.

"It's okay," the Doctor reassured her. "I can metabolize arsenic."

Smiling, Rose shook her head at him. "That's quite the party trick," she told him. She slathered sunscreen on her legs, pausing to admire her newly painted toes.

"It is!" he protested, his voice rising. He sat down on the towel next to her, leaning forward to continue his examination. "This is very, very fine sand. 62.5 micrometers in diameter! Well. 62.523816. Did you know, Rose, that if this sand was any finer it would be classified as silt? Feel it." He held out a pinch of the fine particles to her, wiggling it at her until she put down her sunscreen and held out her hand.

"Roll it between your fingers," he instructed. "Silt feels like flour, sand feels gritty."

Rose dutifully rolled the sand between her fingers and then handed it back to him. "S'nice," she commented.

"Nice!" the Doctor scoffed. "Sand is enormously useful! And not just for lounging on or building castles with... although - Rose, we could build a sand castle!" His eyes lit up.

Rose laughed. "Wouldn't that get in the way of my sitting very still?"

"Maybe later?" he bargained. "You'll get bored of sitting still, I know you will. But I was saying - sand! You humans put it to an incredible number of uses - concrete, glass, roads... agriculture! And that's not to mention sand casting, sandbags, sandpaper!"

"Impressive," Rose agreed, rubbing sunscreen onto her shoulders and across her chest.

"Sand-wiches," he added, grinning.

Rose rolled her eyes.

The Doctor suddenly drew in a deep breath, abandoning his lecture. "I smell... coconut."

"It's the sunscreen," Rose told him, holding up the bottle. "The smell always reminds me of going to the beach with mum. She'd cover me in it, head to toe. Said I tanned like a match."

He inhaled deeply again and reached for Rose's hand, where there was a streak of sunscreen left on her index finger. He took her finger into his mouth and sucked on it, swirling his tongue around the tip. Rose squeaked.

The Doctor made a face and released her hand. "Tastes like... Octinoxate. Yuck." He shuddered. "I thought it'd taste like coconut," he said dejectedly.

Rose picked up a handful of sand and offered it to him. "Want some arsenic to get the taste out?" she asked sarcastically.

Still smacking his lips thoughtfully, he appeared not to to hear her. "Although..." he continued, "it also tastes like..." He reached for her finger again and sucked on it pensively, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. Rose's other hand fisted in her towel, and she barely managed to hold back a moan. After what seemed to be a very long moment, the Doctor released her finger with a wet pop.

"It does taste like... artificial coconut. And Rose." He winked at her, squeezing her hand. "Artificial coconut, genuine Rose."

Rose managed a weak smile.

"Want me to do your back?" He reached for the sunscreen.

Rose handed over the bottle and turned her back to him, her finger still tingling pleasantly. He was so oblivious, it was almost funny. Almost. She sighed.

"Do you know," the Doctor continued, now rubbing sunscreen enthusiastically between Rose's shoulder blades, "there are people who collect sand as a hobby? Psammophiles." He proceeded to spell the word out loud for her, tracing the letters on her back in sunscreen. Suddenly his fingers stilled. "I do love words that begin with silent letters. Did I ever tell you, I tried starting my name with a silent letter? It never really caught on." He snapped the sunscreen closed and handed it back to her. "There you go."

"Thanks." Rose took the bottle and moved to sit behind the Doctor.

"Rose, have you ever experienced singing sand?" He glanced over his shoulder.

She shook her head, beginning to rub sunscreen onto his back.

"We should - oh, Rose - superior Time Lord dermatological - you know I don't really need... oh." He trailed off as Rose massaged the sunscreen into his shoulders, her fingers working at the tense muscles there. "That's really," he stammered, "that's really quite... nice."

Rose grinned to herself as she rubbed the muscles on either side of his spine, using first her fingertips, then her knuckles.

The Doctor sighed in pleasure, recovering the power of speech after a long moment. "Dancing sand, though, that's something to see. Remind me to take you to see the dancing sands of Beta Slash Delta Twelve. Might have to wear goggles, though. Things can get a bit... exfoliating - oh."

He was abruptly at a loss for words again as Rose's fingertips slipped just inside the back of his swim trunks.

Her hands stilled. The touch hadn't been intentional, but abruptly she was tempted, so tempted to see how far she could take this, how far he might let her go. She bit her lip, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders. Was he... was he breathing more heavily, or was that just her? Beginning to rub in the lotion again, she let her hands travel just a bit lower, rubbing down to the base of his spine. He inhaled sharply, but didn't move to stop her. Rose caressed the soft skin there, feeling her own heartbeat accelerate.

"Oh... that's..." the Doctor began rather helplessly.

Fingers just beneath his waistband, barely daring to breathe, she slid her hands deliberately to his hips, scratching lightly with her fingernails. His breath was definitely coming quicker now, and Rose felt a rush of heat in her own body. She froze for a moment, waiting for him to move away or tell her to stop, but... nothing.

The silence was deafening.

Her fingers still tucked under elastic, she let her thumbs rub cautious circles along the exposed skin at his waist. She leaned a bit closer, daring to brush her lips against the back of his neck.

All at once, the reality of the situation crashed down on her, and she was terrified that she'd gone too far. What was she thinking? What was she supposed to do now?

The Doctor swallowed audibly. "Sand..." he choked out.

Rose giggled against against his shoulder, a bit relieved. She let out a shaky breath. At least he hadn't said, "stop".

"Sand?" she prompted. She removed her hands from his shorts and let her fingers walk slowly around towards his belly. Tentatively, she traced over bony hips, then across the smooth planes of his stomach. With her fingertips, she traced the soft trail of hair there to where it disappeared under his shorts. Her heart was pounding, and she drew a deep breath, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

"Yes, sand," he gasped.

It was far too late now to pretend she'd touched him like this by mistake, and somehow, this made her braver. Rose skimmed her fingertips just barely inside the front of his shorts, tracing back and forth, teasing now, feeling a pleasant throb between her legs in counterpoint to the movements of her fingers. There was still no sound of protest.

Throwing caution to the wind, Rose pressed a trail of soft kisses along his spine, leisurely working from the back of his neck to his shoulder blades, breathing in his sweet, spicy scent with every inhale. Unable to kiss any further down without removing her hands from his shorts (and she'd decided that was most definitely not an option now), she kissed her way slowly back up again, daring to dart her tongue out and taste him, just below his hairline.

"What about sand?" she reminded him, smiling, rubbing her nose against his bony spine, her eyes drifting shut.

"It's... good," he breathed eventually.

Rose couldn't help it - she burst out laughing. Her face still pressed to the Doctor's back, she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, hugging him from behind. He joined in, his laugh just a little more breathless than hers, his arms wrapped around hers just a little tighter than hers were around him.

They managed to collect themselves after a moment, and Rose pressed another tender kiss to his back. He sighed, and Rose could feel some of the tension in his body dissipate as he gave in to her touch. He allowed her to move her hands out from under his, and she returned to gently stroking the skin over his firm stomach. She scooted even closer, pressing her breasts against his back, and feeling a warm flush at the sensation of their nearly bare bodies pressed together. She felt lightheaded and silly and daring. Powerful. And dizzy. Not just from the sun.

"Is this... okay?" she whispered after a moment, her lips moving against his spine. Regardless of what he'd allow her to do, now was the time to make absolutely sure. As much as she wanted this, as much as she'd wanted this for so long... she wanted him to be okay with it. She wanted badly for this to be the beginning of something even more fantastic, not merely a mistake made in the heat of the moment that neither of them would ever be able to speak of again.

Silence.

She held her breath, her fingers faltering.

Finally, the Doctor let out a shaky sigh. "Yes," he whispered.

Rose wouldn't have thought one little word could melt her into a puddle, but this one nearly did. She grinned hugely behind him, feeling her chest swell with relief and giddy anticipation. "Say that again," she told him, letting her hands trail up his chest, brushing over soft hair, running the backs of her nails gently over his nipples.

He moaned and then chuckled. "Which part - about the singing sand?"

She laughed, nuzzling against his back, spreading her fingers and trailing them over his ribcage, then back down to his stomach.

"No, not the singing sand. The part where you agreed to let me feel you up on a beach."

"Oh, that part." Rose heard the smile in his voice.

"Yes, please," he murmured after a moment. His voice was low and a tiny bit desperate in a way that would have surely made her knees go out from under her if she hadn't already been sitting.

She didn't speak, wasn't even sure if she could. Instead, biting her lip, she let her hands drift down even further, past skin and onto cloth, gently stroking him through his shorts. He exhaled sharply, and she felt as if her hands were burning, sending tingles of pleasure through the rest of her body. She ran her fingers softly up and down his length, relieved to find that he felt just as human (and just as hard) as she'd imagined.

She stretched up to nip at his earlobe, but the angle was awkward, and she satisfied herself instead with pressing open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder blades. Trailing her fingers back up again, she slipped one hand into his shorts, the other stroking against his hip bone. She felt heat rise in her cheeks at the feel of him, skin to skin.

The Doctor groaned and she sighed at the thought of finally touching him like this. He was hot here, warmer than the rest of his body, and smooth. Wrapping her fingers around his length, Rose slowly stroked up and down. She felt weak and fuzzy and warm. Her heart pounded, her whole body singing with the throb of her pulse.

It felt a bit clumsy, maneuvering inside his trunks, and after a moment she pulled her hand out to tug at his waistband. "Off," she instructed, not sure if she was capable of anything more than mono-syllables at this point.

Keeping his back to her, he wasted no time in wriggling out of his shorts. He seated himself in front of her again, and they adjusted themselves so that Rose's legs were on either side of him, allowing their bodies to be as close as they could be in this position.

Rose was tempted to get up and sit in front of him... but there was something exciting about not being able to see his face, about him not being able to touch her in return. Instead, she pressed the front of her body up against the back of his, both of them sighing at the contact.

She immediately returned her hands to his cock, first trailing her fingertips up and down his smooth length, then grasping him a little more firmly, stroking and squeezing, memorizing the feel of him and relishing the freedom of movement they had with him bared like this.

"Oh, Rose, that's..." he trailed off, letting his head fall back against her shoulder, his hair tickling her cheek. He began to thrust gently into her hand in time with her strokes.

Rose was wet and throbbing now, and she couldn't help rocking her body against his in time with their movements. She ran her thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the moisture there, and rubbing it against the smooth ridge just under the head with every upstroke. She imagined taking him in her mouth, and squeezed him hard at the thought.

"Rose, oh, you're... that's... that's so good," he breathed. His hands clutched the towel below him, his knuckles white as he continued to buck into her hand. Rose kissed and nipped at his shoulder, grazing him with her teeth, and he let out a shuddering sigh.

It suddenly occurred to her foggy brain to worry about chafing him, and she removed her hand to spit into it. He whimpered at the loss, but moaned as she replaced her hand, working the moisture against him to slide him slickly up and down inside her fist.

"Yes," he breathed.

Just like the first time he'd said it, the word was like a shot of heat to her core, and Rose quickened her movements, squeezing harder on the upstroke, rubbing her thumb against the head of his cock on the downstroke. She trailed her free hand slowly over his hip and thigh, reaching down to cup his balls, alternately squeezing, very gently and running her nails against the underside of them.

He whimpered, his breath coming faster, the movements of his hips becoming more frantic. He was close now. Rose struggled to keep up with him, to match his rhythm. Her bikini bottoms were nearly soaked through, and she desperately tried to shift her hips closer to him, hooking her ankles over his calves, yearning for friction that was just out of reach.

"Rose... I'm..." His voice was strained.

His body shuddered against hers and he and came with a low groan, hot liquid pulsing against his stomach and Rose's hand. She continued to stroke him, more slowly now, until he collapsed bonelessly against her, his eyes shut tight. Rose released him gently, reaching for the edge of a towel to dry her hand and carefully wipe his belly. She continued to delicately cradle his balls in her left hand, wrapping her right arm around his waist to hug him close. She closed her eyes, nuzzling the back of his neck.

"Rose," he breathed.

"Mmm," Rose murmured.

Suddenly, he twisted out of her embrace and then finally, oh, finally, he was kissing her, his mouth hard against hers, his hands so tender where they cradled her face. He broke away after a moment, gazing at her with a dazed and grateful look, his eyes dark. Rose gave him a hesitant smile, feeling a bit nervous again.

"Rose..." he trailed off, shaking his head and looking adorably flustered. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips and he kissed her again, then pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply. "Mmmm," he sighed.

Rose grinned against his neck.

"I know that bit wasn't exactly... on the agenda for today..." she began after a long moment.

His shoulders shook as he laughed in her embrace.

"It certainly wasn't. Although..." He pulled back to look at her, considering. "It most definitely did not involve running. And we were... mostly sitting still..." He blushed.

Rose laughed and he grinned at her, lightly trailing his fingers up and down her bare arms. Rose sighed, her eyes fluttering shut, suddenly more aware than ever of a very naked Doctor sitting before her, and of her own fairly tiny swimsuit. She wondered if she could convince him to undress her immediately, or if she was about to be subjected to another lecture on the properties of sand first. Or, worse, a discourse on the history of the hand job.

"So..." the Doctor began after a moment.

"So... what?" Rose smiled, opening her eyes just as she'd decided it would likely be far more expedient for her to undress herself.

"I'm curious - what was it that made you want to..." he trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Stick my hands down your shorts?" Rose asked bluntly, grinning at him.

He laughed. "Yes, that. Not that I'm complaining, not one little bit, but..." He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Was it my very impressive knowledge of sand? My sexy attire? My ability to metabolize toxic substances?" He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I need to know for next time, you see. Is it because I brought you to this very romantic beach?" He leaned in to press a trail of light kisses from Rose's ear to her collarbone.

Rose hummed in pleasure. Maybe he was getting the idea after all. It never hurt to be direct, though.

"Doctor, you could bring me to a hole in the ground, and I'd still want to stick my hands down your shorts." Rose bit her lip.

The Doctor paused in his tasting of the hollow of her throat and she was immediately embarrassed. That really had sounded a lot cleverer in her head.

But then the Doctor's mouth was on hers again as he gently lowered her down onto her towel, settling himself between her thighs. Rose sighed, arching against him and twining her arms around his neck.

He kissed down to her shoulder as his fingers worked at the ties of her bikini bottoms.

"Oh, Rose," he murmured against her skin, "I know of several holes in the ground you're going to love."

* * *

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